


First Snow

by springair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Light Angst, Post-War, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springair/pseuds/springair
Summary: It’s snowing at Hogwarts, and Hermione and Draco go on a date.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	First Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the prompt “Hermione and Draco walking through town, holding hands while it snows.”
> 
> Wanted to write a short, fluffy fic because Hermione and Draco are two of my favourite characters! This is my first shot at writing Dramione :)

The faint sound of students chatting and laughing filled the air as the snow falling got heavier and heavier, the path down to Hogsmeade completely concealed by layers of ice and frost. Draco and Hermione had their hands clasped tightly together, each wearing a thick coat, a hat, gloves, and a scarf to keep themselves warm in the harsh winter.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have stayed up at the castle,” Draco mumbled through his scarf, his free arm wrapped around his own waist.

“Because,” Hermione said, bumping her shoulder against Draco’s, “when you've not been in classes, you've holed yourself up in your room and done nothing but study for _weeks_.”

“Hermione Granger? Complaining about studying?” he said faux-incredulously, and brought a gloved hand up to her forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Swatting at his hand, she huffed. “Oh stop it, I’m _fine._ But even I know when it’s time to take a break. Studying for too long in one straight block actually hinders how much information you retain, did you know that? You need at least 15 minutes rest after every hour you study, otherwise your brain gets tired out.”

“I did not,” he said, and smiled. “And I’m not sure I needed to.”

“All I’m saying,” she persisted, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind her ear, “is that it’s not healthy to shut yourself in. If it were exam season in the summer I’d just force you to study out on the grass in the sun with me, but...”

Draco sniffed. Hermione noticed the tip of his nose was rosy from the cold and had to bite back a comment about how cute he looked. “But it's _freezing_ and so time is much better spent by traipsing through the snow while our arses go numb.”

She squeezed his hand. “Exactly. Fresh air is good.” Hermione wrapped the green scarf around her neck tighter and shifted closer to Draco. “Besides, we made a deal.”

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched. He was enjoying this far too much. “That we did.”

Hermione had been sitting in the common room, in front of the fire, reading one of her guilty pleasure romance novels that Harry and Ron teased her endlessly about. The two of them were out playing Quidditch with the rest of the Eighth Years in spite of the weather, so she'd thought she had a few hours to herself with uninterrupted peace. That is, until Draco had come down the stairs looking pale and tired, and had froze like a deer in headlights when he saw Hermione watching him from the couch by the fire. Recently, Hermione had noticed Draco was a little more reserved than usual, even for how quieter he was compared to before the war, but Hermione had thought that it might've just been the upcoming holiday season and people talking about going home to their families that was upsetting him, with his father in Azkaban and his mother 'floating', as he'd described, around the empty manor like a ghost. It made sense, as she felt somewhat similar herself, with her parents still in Australia until she gathered enough information about Memory charms to try and reverse the one she'd cast. But Draco had never looked so drained, so exhausted, like he did then; it was like how he'd been during the last year of the war. And so, she'd declared they were going to Hogsmeade on a date, and after a few moments of going back and forth, Draco agreed.

On the condition she wore his Slytherin scarf. In fairness, it did look rather nice on her.

After a short while, she spoke again, with her breath coming out in a white cloud. "I wish you didn't feel the need to use a Glamour, Draco."

At first, Hermione had felt quite hurt that he hadn't confided in her, even after all these months together. But she understood it, in a way. Draco was still scared of opening up, of allowing himself to struggle, of letting people see who he was behind the cold glares and the cutting tongue. Even though he'd shown a lot to Hermione, he still hid his moments of weakness, because Draco didn’t want _pity_ or for anyone to tell him he _deserved_ to suffer for what he’d done.

“I just–” Draco bowed his head, then cleared his throat. “I didn't want you to worry.”

That, or he thought that he himself should suffer in silence as punishment.

“Draco...” Hermione trailed off, slowing down to a stop and turning Draco to face her. “I worry because I care about you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he almost spat, not meeting her eyes.

There was a twisted shape to his mouth reminiscent of his signature sneer. Except now, it was filled with hatred towards himself rather than others. It made Hermione’s heart ache.

“I don’t deserve it,” Draco carried on, his eyebrows scrunched together, like he was both confused and on the verge of tears. “You’ve been so kind to me, Hermione, after I was so terrible to you, and I don’t deserve it one bit. I don’t understand how you, how you can be with someone who–”

“Someone who’s changed?” Hermione interrupted. She reached out a hand to cup his cheek, brushing her thumb over his sharp cheekbone, and squeezed his hand again. “Someone who isn’t afraid to admit they’re wrong when it matters? Someone who’s intelligent and hard working? Someone who’s funny and kind deep down, even thought they like to pretend they’re a cold-hearted bastard?”

Draco’s grey eyes shone with tears when they met her own brown, and he only managed a simple, “you overestimate me.”

Hermione tilted her head to the side. “I do know you, Draco, as much as you try to hide. I’m not stupid.”

Quietly, he said, “No, I know that.”

“Then you need to accept that I like you for you.” Her hand moved from his cheek to his neck, thumbing his pulse point. “And I hate seeing you worn down. It’s not good for you.”

He sniffed again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Hermione looked at him for another moment, before dropping her hands and flinging herself at him for a hug. Draco buried his nose in her hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw. It made Hermione feel _safe_ , which would have been completely unbelievable to either of them even a year ago. When they pulled away after God knows how long, Draco’s eyes were red-rimmed and Hermione felt choked.

“Christ, Draco Malfoy, you will be the death of me,” she laughed, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen down his cheek.

“Then I’d have to follow after you, like in one of Shakespeare’s tragedies,” he replied, threading his arm through hers as they began to walk again.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. “Romeo and Juliet?”

“Something like that,” Draco dodged, turning his head away from her, but she could still see the smile on his lips.

“A _Malfoy_ reading Muggle literature,” she gasped. “What a scandal.”

“The _Daily Prophet_ would do a lovely article on the gossip pages about me ruining pureblood traditions if they weren’t so invested in Potter and Weasley’s relationship.”

Hermione patted his hand. “One day, maybe. Not sure I’d want the _Prophet_ talking about my love life again, if I’m honest. Leave it to Ginny and Harry.”

Draco laughed, then took a deep breath and sighed. “Seriously, though, I _am_ sorry for shutting myself away. I thought it would help me focus but I did more harm than good. To my work and to us.”

“Apology accepted. Besides, I don’t think I ever actually apologised for slapping you in Third Year.”

Draco smiled and shook his head. “I wholeheartedly deserved that one.”

“Have to agree, I’m afraid. But I’m sorry I had to do it,” she giggled, scrunching up her nose.

“You know, I really don’t think you are, Granger,” Draco teased. She winked, beaming.

In front of them, Hogsmeade was bustling with both students and residents alike, all trying to get final last minute gifts for the holidays. There was a crowd of shoppers forming outside of both Zonko’s and Honeydukes, so Hermione made a mental note to steer clear of there, not that she was one for practical jokes anyways.

“I still haven’t bought you a Christmas present,” Hermione hummed, half to change the subject and half as a genuine observation.

“How many times do I need to tell you I don’t need anything?” Draco whined from beside her.

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I’m buying you something anyways?” She kissed him softly on the cheek. “When have I ever listened to what you’ve told me to do?”

“That’s an excellent point.”

“Exactly. Now, Neville told me there was a new bookshop with a café that I thought sounded _perfect_...”

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of left it up to reader’s interpretation of when these two got together, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Talk to me on twitter/tumblr @balletquartet :)
> 
> Lots of love <3


End file.
